


Something Real

by loOkMA_iTyPeLiKeDiS



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pillow Talk, Pining Lance (Voltron), Post S7, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Soft Plance, squishy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loOkMA_iTyPeLiKeDiS/pseuds/loOkMA_iTyPeLiKeDiS
Summary: To Lance, nothing has felt more right than waking up next to Pidge, her feet curled up around his, tiny hand engulfed in his and drooling on his t-shirt.





	Something Real

**Author's Note:**

> i really should be working on my thesis defence but plance hit me upside the head again
> 
> no smut but lance does have a girl he’s attracted to in his bed so… he’s observant

The slow rise of stifling heat under his covers knocks Lance awake from his dream.

It takes him a long moment to recollect his thoughts and figure out that he’s not reclining on a beach blanket in an isolated area of Varadero beach with the gorgeous sunset facing him and a frisky Pidge sucking him off. He’s still in his garrison cadet quarters lying on the standard issue hard mattress (no pillow-soft white sand) with the AC cranking noisily and chilling his room (no warmth from the sun), but there _is_ a warm pair of breasts squishing against his back and for a second, he thinks he’s entered into some other dream that’s about to be just as exhilarating as the last one.

That’s what he hopes for, but the face attached to the breasts nuzzles his back and pulls him out of his partial sleepy haze and back into the real world.

It takes him a few more seconds to fully rattle himself out of the remnants of his fantastic wet dream, but he’s not surprised to see an arm with a familiar small hand flung over his waist, tangled ruddy brown hair splaying all over his bed sheets and back, and legs tangled up in his as said person snores so loudly, they could wake the dead.

With a sigh, Lance detangles their legs and rolls over until he’s facing Pidge, taking care to make sure there’s some distance between his crotch and her legs. At this point, erections when she sleeps in his bed are pretty common, but still, he doesn’t want to scare her off or something. His movement jostles the bed and causes the mattress springs to creak and Pidge rouses, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. He leans his head on his elbow, watching her face contort with her loud yawn. There’s crusties in her eyes and her eyebrows kind of resemble caterpillars right now and the wave of morning breath that hits him is pretty gross but he’s content watching her try to reorient herself with her surroundings.

"Hi," Pidge murmurs contently, rubbing at her tired eyes.

“Hey." He can't help his wide grin, his heart racing as she curls her hands in his shirt and glances up slowly at him, her eyes soft and dazed and a sleepy smile on her plush lips. “How’d you get in my room?”

Not that he’s trying to keep her out or anything, but after a very tiring post-dinner workout, he’d crashed and he was sure he’d locked the door so no one would disturb him. Pidge is a very animated sleeper with sinuses that frequently clog up at night and lead to snores that put even the ancient AC unit to shame.

“Kosmo,” she mutters in a sleep-garbled voice, burrowing closer to him and sliding her legs between his once again as if trying to go back to sleep. Her feet feel like ice on his skin, and Lance quickly stifles his yelp of surprise.

“Should have known…” he drawls, absentmindedly rubbing her arm when he feels the goosebumps on her skin. It’s a sauna in his bed right now and yet, Pidge is perpetually cold. “You really have to stop using Kosmo as a portkey to get in my room.”

Lance takes a peek at the clock on the wall above his head. Dawn would be arriving in half an hour and with it, another busy day of preparations and training. He doesn’t know how long Pidge has been in his room so far, but normally she’s gone by the time he fully wakes up because the Cadet Second Lieutenant for his floor doubles down hard on room checks in the morning. Lance isn’t surprised. Considering how many of them on the floor are on the cusp of or at adulthood now, sneaking girls and guys for hookups has become the norm. He’s just lucky that he gets his own room as one of the paladins heading the war. The special treatment definitely helps him avoid awkward situations like a roommate suddenly waking up to find a girl in Lance’s bed.

“It was a necessity. You locked your door.” Pidge pouts cutely. “And I like being in your bed.”

It’s said with just the right amount of breathy sleepiness that coupled with her half lidded gaze simultaneously does something funny to his heart and makes his dick twinge helplessly against his cotton pyjama pants. Lance exhales slowly, looking away from her and fighting off the reminder that she’d been looking at him the very same way in his dream.

Pidge takes the hand on her arm, lacing her fingers through his as she moves ever closer, just barely making contact on his thigh with her hip. A little over to the left and she would have definitely felt Little Lancey up and about.

“It smells nice,” she admits quietly.

“You know, yours would smell nice too if you cleaned your room and washed your sheets every two weeks,” Lance responds, if only to distract himself from her ever present warmth. She keeps scootching closer to him and he keeps shoving back in increments and he knows eventually he’s going to get cornered by the wall.

Pidge snorts. “Not worth the effort, Lance…”

“You are so lucky your Lieutenant doesn’t care about room orderliness.”

She hums in agreement and they both settle in the quiet of the room, basking in each other’s warmth and enjoying the slow beginning of the day. Pidge’s soft tufts of breath fan out on his neck at a slow even pace, but he knows she hasn’t fallen asleep only because her thumb is stroking the back of the hand intertwined with hers.

It’s kind of odd to Lance.

Back in their days up in space, he’d always dreamed of being with Allura like this on Earth—nearly domestic and intimate—but every one of his fantasies with the princess had since been replaced and fulfilled by his nerdy friend, and the weirdest thing to him is that he didn't realise he'd welcomed it long ago.

But the part that really throws him for a loop is how _right_ it feels.

How natural it is to have Pidge sleeping next to him, feet curled up around his, her tiny hand engulfed in his and drooling on his t-shirt.

He can’t really say when this physical intimacy became the norm for them, but somewhere along the way, they’d started walking the halls holding hands, she’d started casually wearing his jackets on days out in the town, and kissing her forehead or letting her sit on his lap didn’t garner embarrassed blushes anymore. They’re always touching each other or making some sort of physical contact, and it’s sparked rumours around the garrison about the true nature of their relationship. Lance is pretty sure their own friends have placed bets on them. Hell, they’re probably the ones who set up the pool.

Sure, Pidge has become more affectionate as of late—about five months after they left the hospital—but part of him chalks it up to the fact that it’s a partial reaction to almost dying in battle. Well, also that and the sudden realisation that Haggar is on her way to Earth with a fleet of robeasts ready to lay waste to the Earth. Whatever mental reservations Pidge had had before, she’s clearly decided holding back isn’t worth it when the world is about to get attacked by some powerful monsters.

So the world is probably going to end soon, but hey, at least he gets a warm Pidge in his bed pretty much every night.

“Hey Lance…” Pidge murmurs softly, drawing him out of his thoughts as she plays with the fingers of his hand.

He glances down at her again and is rewarded with a clear view down her tank top when she shifts. Pidge still doesn’t wear bras to sleep—she’d told Allura that it was an annoyance she never used to have to deal with—and while he understands to an extent that she doesn’t feel she needs it, he is very aware of the fact that since coming back to Earth, it’s like puberty jump started again for them all. Pidge’s body changes were pretty easy to see, especially since Lance spends so much time with her. The slightly bigger boobs, her hips widening, waist pulling in. She was becoming more womanly and squishy and that coupled with her growing out her pretty hair made it hard for people to take their eyes off of “Pidge Gunderson”, who looked nothing like before.

At the very least, if there is one thing he appreciates about the rumours about him and Pidge’s relationship, it’s that people stay away because they believe she’s a taken woman. He just doesn’t bother correcting anyone that they’re just friends.

(And although he desperately wishes they could be more, he never breaches the boundaries Pidge has set in place because he respects her too much).

He curls a stray lock of hair behind her ear and strokes her cheek. “What’s on your mind, Pidgey?”

She licks her lips slowly, as if contemplating how to word her statement. “Do you ever wonder if Haggar’s war will lead to regrets from missed opportunities? And chances?”

The last part is said significantly more quietly, but Lance’s brows furrow when he catches her drift. “You mean if we die or something?”

It’s not a guarantee that they’ll survive this battle. In fact, he’s expecting tons more casualties than the fight against Sendak, despite his desperate hopes and wishes that it won’t happen that way. But it’s war. And war always comes with a price.

She just barely nods. “I don’t want regrets.”

“What brought this on, Pidge?” She’s not typically the type to think about stuff like this unless something is seriously weighing on her mind.

He’s tempted to ask what regrets she’s referring to, but if she barely divulged an explanation to her statement in the first place, he’s not sure she’ll be particularly receptive to that inquiry.

“Nothing in particular…” She shakes her head as if changing her mind and instead toys with the fabric of Lance’s t-shirt. “I’m just going to miss this when the war starts.”

Lance lets out a small yawn, covering his mouth to prevent his own stale breath from hitting her face. “Well look on the bright side. Once we defeat Haggar, we’ll go right back to our regularly scheduled programme.”

He’s partially joking to try to lighten up Pidge’s odd reflective mood, and she does give him a brief, tight-lipped smile, but the conflicted look in her eyes doesn’t dissipate. He says nothing more, waiting for Pidge to work up the nerve to tell him what’s plaguing her thoughts and causing her so much worry. When a minute goes by and she still doesn't respond, he gently takes hold of her chin.

"What's up?"

"Sendak was nothing compared to Haggar's dangerous robeast." Her gaze is far off, distant. "She's going to be targeting us. She has a personal vendetta, and I know how powerful she is. I'm not scared of the coming fight but…"

It isn't often that Lance sees Pidge rattled like this. "You're worried one of us might not make it this time."

None of them had made it out of that fight without suffering some fairly major damage and that was only with _one_ Altean robeast. They would probably be dealing with multiples of them. Who was to say this battle wouldn't permanently take them out of the fight?

“…You. Please don’t die, Lance,” Pidge whispers, the soft quiver in her voice making his heart ache in his chest. “I can’t lose you.”

He’s had one too many brushes with death already—and actually died once, a secret he’ll never tell Pidge because he knows she’ll freak out—and he’s not sure he can make that promise, not just because he doesn’t know what could happen. Given the opportunity, he will sacrifice himself for his friends over and over without hesitation if it means protecting the people he loves, but he can’t bring himself to say that because she’s staring up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, a silent plea for any kind of assurance.

Lance rests his forehead against hers, carding his fingers gently through her hair. “Come what may, we’ll get through it.”

It’s the best he can say to assuage her fears, and Pidge does seem to appreciate it, though that troubled look in her eyes is still there. Nonetheless, she hooks her arms around his back and loosely grasps his shirt. Lance feels guilty. He knows it pains her that there are no guarantees and part of him understands that she’s sought him out as the constant in her life in the neverending turmoil of war, but he still can’t predict the future. And it would destroy him if he broke a promise to Pidge.

He can’t do that to her.

A door opens and shuts hurriedly somewhere down his hall, and they’re reminded that the day is going to begin soon and that they can’t stay like this forever, no matter how much they want to.

He hears the same rapid opening and shutting from a different room. “I guess… this is your cue?”

“Yeah. I need to get back before they start rounds,” she says and Lance nods, though he makes no attempts to move just yet.

Pidge reluctantly detangles herself and steps out of his bed and from the cosy comfort of their little sauna. She rearranges her sleep clothes and tugs her shorts down to make herself a little more presentable. To no surprise at all, she snatches up and pulls on the sweatshirt he’d left across the back of his desk’s chair and Lance knows he won’t be getting it back.

But then to his surprise, she leans down and presses a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It’s how she always says goodbye the few times he’s woken up before she had a chance to leave, but this one surprises him particularly because it holds more weight. Like a seal for their vow. Or if he lets himself be optimistic, an unspoken promise of a future where maybe this thing between them will be addressed once and for all. There's an odd sense of hope in it too, that if they somehow make it out alive, a new door might be opened for them.

By the time he’s found his voice, Pidge has already gotten to the doorway and is watching him, eyes hazy as if memorising his features. He finds himself studying her too, the dishevelled curl of her hair, freckles dusting her face, amber eyes practically glittering as the first thin rays of the light of dawn filter through his blinds and dance across her face. Lance wishes he had the courage to ask her to stay. The fearlessness to confess to her that nothing he feels towards her can be considered platonic anymore. But there is prudence in waiting. They’re on the cusp of a brutal battle and while a relationship to fight for and protect could be a good motivating factor, he knows Pidge wouldn’t want the distraction. So he’ll keep it to himself.

At least until the war is over. Or if he dies.

Whichever comes first.

“You know, I can’t lose you either, Katie,” he remarks quietly.

He’d figured that out long ago when Zethrid and Ezor had targeted Pidge, but he tells her again to remind her how important she is to him. Pidge’s expression turns warm and affectionate.

"Don't be late for training, Lance, or Keith will make you run extra laps."

With a soft smile in parting, Pidge opens the door a small sliver and pokes her head out to check the hallways. Coast clear, she slinks out, disappearing down the darkened corridor as Lance’s door shuts with a soft click. Lance lies awake with his arms resting behind his head and stares at his ceiling as the last few minutes before his alarm will go off tick away.

He knows Pidge wants the same thing he does. An end to the war. Happiness. Stability. A family. Settling down once and for all and finding a sense of normalcy after years of hard fought battles to protect the universe.

But for the first time, he feels like there could be a chance that she wants that with him just as much as he wants that with her. And that has his heart stuttering in his chest.

This is a potential new beginning for them, something real, something lasting, and he’ll gladly take that leap with her when the time comes.


End file.
